


I Will Love You Constantly (There's Precious Little Else To Me)

by vvalormorghouliss



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya loves her family, BAMF Arya Stark, Episode Fix-it: s08e04 The Last of the Starks, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Happy Starks, Let them be happy!, Protective Sansa Stark, Stark Sisters, Starklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:19:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvalormorghouliss/pseuds/vvalormorghouliss
Summary: Before Arya leaves for King's Landing, she has to tie up some loose ends.After the proposal and before Arya leaves Winterfell





	I Will Love You Constantly (There's Precious Little Else To Me)

It was midday: the sun reflected blindingly on the snow, and if you squinted, the bloodstains almost looked like weirwood leaves. The air still smelled of burning flesh, smoke still crowded the air, and it was too quiet. Much too quiet.

The Winterfell of Arya’s childhood was constantly bustling, people always moving, hounds slinking through the halls, and children underfoot. She loved the commotion of Winterfell - it made the cold expanses of the North feel more warm and comforting, but her favorite times were at nights when she would sneak outside and scale the roof of the castle. It was serene, so utterly quiet that she could hear the blood pounding in her ears, and she  _ loved _ it. 

Now, she wished for anything but quiet. It just made it more obvious that there was a gaping hole in the population of the castle. She couldn’t bring herself to join the festivities of the feast the previous night, though everyone tried to convince her to. She instead chose to practice her archery alone, hitting the target precisely with each arrow. Every arrow was someone she loved who was still alive, a reason she  _ should _ be happy.  _ Jon. Bran. Sansa.  _ She sighed and shot another arrow.  _ Gendry _ .

Then that big, blundering bull came in, slightly drunk, and said he loved her and called her beautiful and asked her to marry him and be his lady now that he was a lord. He had so much love in his eyes and she realized that no one had looked at her like since her father. 

 

And she said no.

She loved him, truly and completely and with no conditions, but she couldn’t find it within herself to set aside the truths she had lived her whole life by.  _ She would never be a lady _ . She knew, deep down, that she had made the right choice. Arya would never be content as Lady Baratheon, but there was an itch in her heart that she was trying not to scratch.  _ If he hadn’t been given the titles and was just a bastard from Flea Bottom, she would’ve said yes with no hesitation _ .

Arya sighed and shook her head. She had to pack up a little bit: King’s Landing was a decent ride and she had no interest in hunting while she was on the road. The kitchen cooks had given her dried meat and two canteens. It wasn’t much, but it had to do as supplies were running low. She swung the knapsack over her shoulder and started making her way down the halls that led to the stables. Right before she stepped out of the castle walls, she stopped. There was something she needed to do first.

 

***

 

Sansa was sewing a cloak for Brienne, hoping to cheer her up after Ser Jamie's sudden departure. It was just as much a distraction for her; since Theo-...the battle, she was either crying or sewing. A knock rattled her door, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, pushing the cloak onto the chair beside her as she stood up. The door opened, and her sister was standing outside. Arya was dressed for the outdoors, a bag slung on her back. Her feet were crossed and she was twisting her earlobe. Since they were children, Arya twisted her ear when she felt any sudden burst of emotion. “You’re leaving,” she said to her sister, who twisted her ear a final time before looking up and stepping in.

“Aye,” Arya said. “May I sit?”

“You don’t need to ask,” Sansa said, gesturing to the chairs by the fire. Arya perched on the arm of one.  _ She looks like a bird ready to fly off, _  Sansa mused as she sat in the opposite chair. “So, dear sister. What has compelled you to leave our lovely home?”

“Unfinished business,” Arya said cooly. Sansa looked into her eyes then, and suddenly she wasn’t her sister anymore, but instead an assassin. She slipped into her mask once and a while, but usually, with a little bit of encouragement from her family, Arya came back. Sansa could tell that this time Arya was doing it on purpose, trying to distance herself from the situation. 

“I understand. Are you going to say goodbye to Jon and Bran?” Sansa replied, trying her best to seem indifferent. Arya cocked an eyebrow.

“No. They’d just try to stop me. It’s easier this way.” 

“And Gendry?”

Sansa had guessed right; the facade slipped ever so slightly. “That’s what I thought.”

Arya groaned. “Sansa…” Sansa interrupted her.

“Arya Stark, you’ve wanted to jump his bones the whole time he’s been he-,” Arya spluttered, but Sansa kept going, “and now  you just take off?”

After Arya got through her protests, she looked at Sansa. “I mean, I did jump his bones.” 

“ _ Arya Lyanna Stark!” _

Arya had to laugh. Her proper, ladylike sister looked absolutely  _ scandalized _ . “Arya! Please tell me you aren’t pregnant and running away from your problems.”

“I didn’t want to go into detail Sans but if you need me to explain why I’m not pregn-”

“You can stop right there!” Sansa exclaimed shrilly. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter, tears leaking from their eyes.

“But seriously, Arya,” Sansa said once their laughter had subsided. “Does he know you’re leaving?”

“No,” Arya whispered, her voice suddenly small.

“And why not?” Sansa pressed.

Arya looked at her sister for a minuted before answering. “Promise you won’t laugh.” Sansa promised. “He asked me to marry him and I said no.”

Sansa just stared.

“I just can’t bring myself to be a lady. Sansa, you know that’s not me. But he just looked so sad and I don’t know what to do and…” she trailed off.

“And what?” Sansa asked. Arya’s eyes dropped to the ground.

“And I really think he’s the love of my life and I just broke his heart,” Arya whispered.

Sansa grabbed her hand. “Arya, he looks at you like you hung the stars. He’s got to know that it’s not him you don’t want, it’s the title.” Arya nodded. “From what you say, he knows about your list. He’s waited this long, who’s to say he can’t wait longer?”

Arya nodded again, looking back up at Sansa before standing. “You’re right.”

“As per usual.”

Arya rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “I have to get going before it’s dark. Sansa stood as well, pulling her into a hug.

The embrace hid Arya’s face and she allowed her face to crumple. She wasn’t stupid - a Stark going to the capital, especially a girl, to kill the queen was a suicide mission. She was never going to see her sister again. Arya didn’t know what to think about Jon, and Bran wasn’t her Bran anymore, so coming to terms with their final times together wasn’t as hurtful.

But Sansa was her  _ sister _ . Her only sister, the strongest, smartest person she knew, who loved so deeply and fought so fiercely. In that moment, Arya felt remorse tugging at her heartstrings for not appreciating her time with Sansa as children.  _ What she wouldn’t give to go back. _

“Be safe,” Sansa whispered. “And come home.” Arya composed herself and pulled away. 

“Tell Jon and Bran not to worry,” Arya said while she was walking out the door. She paused in the doorway. “And Sansa? Keep an eye on Gendry? Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Sansa chuckled. “Will do, little sister.”

Arya decided it wasn’t possible for her to speak more without getting choked up. She took one final look at the Lady of Winterfell before stepping into the corridor and striding to the courtyard.

 

She didn’t look back

**Author's Note:**

> Hey gang! I was in the writing mood so I spit out this little oneshot based off my feelings on this week's episode!
> 
> I love you all- to my fellow Gendrya stans: don't stop beliveing peeps!
> 
> Title from Mumford and Sons: "Hot Gates"


End file.
